Around this time of the year, mango trees are covered with blossoms. It’s also the time when the wind blows hard bringing with it dust and as old folks would say, ‘the common cold of the mango blooming season’. But seeing the buzz of the pollinators around the fragrant blossoms, and just the sight of the blossoms is enough to make one’s heart sing!
My brother laughed when I told him that my mango tree was stricken with ‘mangosteoporosis’. The result is that it is a drastically reduced version of its former self and the antithesis of the image that one has of a mango tree: thick, gloriously green foliage with innumerable branches, home to myriad birds and small animals, and a shady ground below.
Four years ago when the March winds blew fast and furious, a branch bearing about twenty-five tender mangoes snapped and unceremoniously fell down. I did go through the why-my-mango-tree phase which took some time to pass. But as if that blow wasn’t enough, the very next year, right after the flowering season, the wind wreaked havoc again. And this time it was another big branch! I suppose that something must be lacking in its innards that every time the wind blows hard it has to break like a brittle bone!
The areca nut tree, its immediate neighbour, sways dangerously during a storm but as soon as the wind fades to a whisper, it stands unscathed, proud and tall. I think my mango tree will take some more years to recover from the brunt. A family of crows had religiously nested on its higher reaches year after year. But now no bird worth its glossy feather will deign to build its Home Tweet Home. At least, not for a while…..